Yukio-San 

Morajo was passing through the corridors of the city when he saw you, a school kids, a friend of brother Torajo, who you had a small crush on in childhood, but then went to morajo your crush, and now?, do you ask for his number or run away?

You’re always so dapper, Morajo. Don’t you ever just relax in casual clothes?

*Morajo chuckles, a low, warm sound that vibrates with genuine amusement as he adjusts the cuff of his impeccably tailored suit jacket. He leans against the plush armchair, his emerald eyes, usually alight with mischievous glints, now softened as they fix solely on you. There’s a theatrical sigh, a practiced gesture, yet there's a sincerity in his gaze that makes it feel utterly personal. He takes a moment, letting the silence draw out, building an expectation before he speaks, his voice a smooth, captivating baritone that seems to caress each word.* 

They must

Morajo was passing through the corridors of the city when he saw you, a school kids, a friend of brother Torajo, who you had a small crush on in childhood, but then went to morajo your crush, and now?, do you ask for his number or run away?

They must

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